


i paid the cost of being lost

by icymapletree



Series: 13 nights of halloween [11]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Being Lost, Gen, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Scared Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icymapletree/pseuds/icymapletree
Summary: “I’m so sorry, Petey,” she choked.“It’s not your fault baby, not your fault.”“I wanted to hide in the forest for hide and seek,” she whispered.“We just went a little too far, that’s all,” he responded softly, leaves crunching beneath his feet as he walked. The realization sunk in worse than before, now that the sun was setting - he had no web shooters, no suit, no phone and no watch.





	i paid the cost of being lost

**Author's Note:**

> we are in the final countdown ladies and gents!
> 
> title from Johnny Reid's "Which Way is Home"
> 
> this was written for #11: lost on [hailingstars](https://hailing-stars.tumblr.com/) 13 nights of halloween prompt list!

The sun was setting over the layers of thick foliage. Peter had Morgan on his hip, and she was shaking with silent sobs, yet no tears left her eyes. Peter tried to avoid letting his anxiety reach his face, but it could be seen in the way he stumbled a little when he walked.

The sky was turning a crimson purple, the pair losing their only hope of direction. Peter looked toward the sun that was causing rays of light to stream through in beams, mentally noting where it fell in the sky. The sun rose in the east and set in the west - or was it rose in the west or set in the east? That way was west, right?

Even knowing the cardinal directions didn’t help. Peter couldn’t tell you which way the house the house was. He knew there was no way that they could be south of the house - they didn’t walk past the lake - but that still left three directions to choose from.

“We’re going to go north, okay, Morgie?”

“I’m so sorry, Petey,” she choked.

“It’s not your fault baby, not your fault.”

“I wanted to hide in the forest for hide and seek,” she whispered.

“We just went a little too far, that’s all,” he responded softly, leaves crunching beneath his feet as he walked. The realization sunk in worse than before, now that the sun was setting - he had no web shooters, no suit, no phone and no watch.

Morgan tucked her head into the crook of his neck, and Peter brought her in tighter. Branches creaked in the light wind, sometimes jerking with the weight of an animal.

Shadows stretched taller in the setting sun, and Peter had to remind himself that everything was so much darker for Morgan, so much larger and so much scarier. He couldn’t let his fear show if he wanted to keep her less afraid. He pressed a kiss to her little cheek, pulling back her dark hair.

“We’re gonna get home, okay?”

She nodded, tucking herself in deeper.

Branches snapped as he walked, and owls hooted beyond where they could see. The wind was blowing roughly like sandpaper, causing dirt to pelt his back.

The sun didn’t set all at once, but as soon as they were fully enveloped in darkness, it sent shivers down their spines. Each little rustle had Peter jerking his head to find out what caused it.

The leaves were wet with fresh rain and the scent left an acrid feeling in their noses. Warm colors muddled together on the forest floor, being dimmed by dirt.

They ventured on.

Eventually, Peter saw a halo of artificial light in the distance. It was too much to be the cabin, but it was light regardless. The trees parted way for a building and giant glowing sign that read the prices of gas. All they needed to find inside was a phone. That’s it.

“Look, Petey,” she whispered, pointing at the gas station. It was a square building with the old timey gas pumps that had been white at some point, but were now dirty with neglect. Weeds darted up from the cracks in the concrete, some blooming with dying flowers.

“I see it. Why don’t we go see if there’s anyone there? Maybe they can help us.”

“But what if they want to hurt us?”

Peter placed a hand on the back of her head and remembered when the poor girl had to go through ransom training. He was there for it, saw the way her eyes glazed over with fear. She looked similar now, face made pale under the moonlight.

“They probably don’t. If they do, I’ll kick their asses.”

Morgan gave a small smile, but it was ruined by nerves running rampant in her eyes.

They walked toward the gas station that had a single long street in front of it, lit by a single light. Trees lined either side. The only place void of the thick wilderness was the gas station itself.

A neon open sign glowed in the window, and that was good enough for Peter. His heartbeat thud in his ears. What if he was bringing Morgan directly into danger?

But if he left, what if he was missing an opportunity to get home?

He pushed the door open, a bell jingling as he did so. The air was dank inside, and the store walls were crawling with mold. The shelves that would normally hold snacks were barren. A man with a crooked smile and yellowing eye whites tilted his head at their entrance.

A cold tingle, like dripping water, ran down Peter’s neck. Everything in his body was screaming to leave, yet his feet stayed planted on the cracked tile floor. There was a single warm light behind the man, illuminating the way he scratched his peppered beard. He wore a trucker’s hat and a ripped camo jacket.

Morgan’s grip on his sweatshirt tightened, and Peter tried his best to put on a brave face. The little girl was shaking now, nearly vibrating as her breath quickly entered and left her lips.

“Hello, little ones,” the man’s gruff voice huffed out, “How may I help you?”

Peter cleared his throat. “Do you have, uh, a phone or something we could use?”

“Lost?” he asked, his eyes narrowing and his smile growing.

“Yeah, just need to,” Peter sniffed, “call our father.”

Silence set over them. The only noise that could be heard was the howling wind outside and the hum of the electric bug trap.

“Petey,” Morgan whined, “I want Daddy.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he said softly in her ear.

“I’ve got a phone in the back,” the man said, “Let me go get it… _Peter_.”

Peter’s hardened stare didn’t leave the man as turned the corner.

“I want down,” Morgan said, tugging on Peter’s sweatshirt.

“No, no, I’m not gonna let you down right now,” Peter said, voice shaky. He tuned his hearing so he could hear whatever the man was saying in the back.

“_I’ve got Stark’s kids, you’re clear to come in and take them -_”

The words didn’t register, because Morgan spoke again.

“I’m gonna get sick,” Morgan proclaimed in a weak voice, tugging more anxiously now and kicking against Peter’s grip. Peter carefully set her down, kneeling to her level and rubbing circles in her back as her chest heaved and she put a hand over her mouth.

His eyes kept darting around, keeping aware of his surroundings when his body betrayed him and did the only thing he didn’t want it to do.

Peter’s nerves were electric with warning, having no control over himself when he flipped backwards over someone behind him - leaving a clear path to Morgan as her lunch spilled itself over the floor.

The woman behind him rushed forward, enveloping the girl in her grip. Blonde hair poked out from under a black ski mask, and pale, veiny hands stuck out from under a black sweater.

Seeing this stranger with Morgan lit something primal inside him, he ran forward with his eyes closed, fists flying, only registering it when a sinister snap filled the room. The woman fell limp to the floor with a dull thud.

Peter fell to the floor with her, bringing the dead woman closer to his chest. Her jaw was slack and blood rushed from her nose, eyes, face. Empty sobs left his mouth.

“No,” he whimpered, yanking off the mask and staring into her lifeless blue eyes. He shook her a little bit, begging, praying for any sign of life.

“No,” he said, louder this time. He frantically looked up, seeing the man at the counter slack-jawed with widened eyes.

“Call for help! Please!” Peter bawled, guilt and regret written in the lines of his scrunched face.

“Petey?” Morgan asked quietly, in a pool of her own sick, fear scaring away every other emotion that was showing on her little face. The fear was different this time. She wasn’t scared for her life. She was scared of him, of what he could do.

“I’m sorry,” Peter pleaded, looking at his hands as tears burned his cheeks, wiping the dirt away in tracks.

“You freak!” the man barked.

“I’m so so sorry,” Peter said, at Morgan this time. He heard the clicking of a gun being cocked, and when he looked up to the man again, he saw the end of a pistol.

“You freak,” the man said again, shaking his head and pulling the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/icymapletree)!


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